


Don’t Do It Again

by AryaWinchester



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Caring Michael, FAHC universe, Kisses, Literal golden boy gavin, M/M, Ragehappy Secret Santa 2017, cw blood, cw injuries, gta-fahc, hanging out together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 18:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13129980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaWinchester/pseuds/AryaWinchester
Summary: Gavin shows up at Michael's apartment, covered in blood and smiling. Michael's mad and insists on cleaning him up. Golden Boy!Gavin, fahc!au, caring!MichaelWritten for RageHappy Secret Santa 2017





	Don’t Do It Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kiraraneko on tumblr for RHSS2017

“Micool… Open your door…”  
Michael stared at the intercom box, hoping the annoying brit on the other end would give up and leave. Not that he didn’t like the man (he probably cared for him more than anyone else in the world), he was just not in the right mood for his squeaks and squawks right now.  
“Come on boi, I know you’re home! You told Lil J you weren’t doing anything today!”  
He hopped over the back of the couch and went to the box. “What if I went out for food? Then I wouldn’t be home.”  
He could hear Gavin yelp in surprise at the response. “Michael boi! Let me up! I want to play some Kart with you!”  
Michael sighed, quickly weighing the pros and cons in his head. He pushed the talk button (“fine”) and then the unlock button.  
It only took a couple minutes until he heard a knock at the door and the annoying humming that always seemed to follow the mutt. He opened the door.  
Michael had seen Gavin bleed, one of the many side effects of being in a gang, but he had never seen this much. Gold blood had pooled under his nose. It seemed to have slowed down as there was dried blood over his lips and flaking off, but there was still a bit dripping down. Or maybe it was from the split lip, spreading farther as he smiled. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, but Michael could see the split knuckles. A cut on his forehead was starting to scab over. It looked like it needed stitches. His jeans and jacket were ripped and dirty. Deep purple and yellow bruises were starting to form on his cheeks and jaw.  
“What the fuck did you do?”  
Gavin shrugged and tried to walk into the apartment. “It's not a big deal. Just a small tussle.”  
Michael stepped back. He could feel his eyebrows scrunch together and a small pout appear on his lips. “You need to get fixed up. I’m calling Jack.”  
“No,” Gavin said too hastily, pushing past him. “Please, I don’t need to see her. I just want to play some games with my boi and have some bevs.” He stripped off his jacket and threw it over a chair.  
“God, fuck. Just… Wait there. Don’t get your stupid blood on any of my shit.” Michael went to his bathroom and started digging through the cupboard. He had just restocked his first aid kit, but of course he couldn’t find it.  
He could hear Gavin moving around the kitchen, probably trying to find a beer. Michael pulled the kit out from under a pile of dirty laundry and ran to the main room.  
“Don’t you dare take a drink, you asshole.”  
Gavin paused, just about to open a can. “Why?”  
“You shouldn’t drink. You might have a concussion.” He gestured for Gavin to sit on the counter and opened the med kit.  
Gavin put down the can and hopped onto the steel counter. He was frowning. “I don’t have a concussion.”  
“But you might.”  
Michael held a hand out for Gavin's, who hesitated for a sound before putting out his right in a fist. It was almost quiet as he worked, cleaning up the shimmering gold blood with a disinfectant wipe. Michael would swear under his breath every once in awhile, cursing his friend. Between the two he had eight split knuckles and a dislocated thumb, which they found when Michael moved it and Gavin winced.  
“You stupid fucking idiot. Who did you fight?”  
“It’s not important.” Gavin's face had turned pink under the blood as he cast his eyes down.  
Michael pursed his lips but didn’t push it. He bandaged his friends hands before moving to his face. Gavin pulled away as Michael's got closer and drew in a breath.  
“I have to fix your face, idiot.”  
A smile tugged at Gavin's lips. “How can you fix perfection?”  
If he wasn’t already hurt, Michael would’ve punched him.  
“Just… Wash your face in the sink.” Michael stepped back to let Gavin hop off the counter, which he did, stumbling a bit over his own feet.  
Michael leaned against the counter, trying to seem busy on his phone, but the sight of Gavin's golden blood mixing with the water and swirling down the sink drain distracted him. Who hurt his friend this bad? Why didn’t he want to tell Michael who it was?  
Once Gavin's face was back to normal (besides the obvious wounds), Michael took out anti-infectant spray and a surgery needle set to fix the cut on his head.  
“No, boi, I am not trusting you with a needle near my bloody head!” Gavin jumped back, his hands up defensively.  
“You need stitches!”  
“No I don’t!”  
Michael huffed and narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I’ll call Jack then.”  
Gavin's eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”  
“Yes, I would.”  
Gavin pouted. “She doesn’t numb it though!”  
“And if you don’t stop resisting,” Michael crossed his arms, “I won’t either.”  
Gavin grumbled, but sat on a chair at the small dining table. Michael followed him and pushed some of the dirty dishes aside to set up a stitching station. Geoff and Jack had taught all of them proper first-aid as soon as they joined the crew. They thought it was stupid at the time (“Why can’t I just use a normal needle!”) but it had proven to be useful on more than one occasion. Michael sent a silent blessing to the two faux-parents of the gang.  
He walked back to the kitchen and opened the freezer, hoping there was at least one ice tray inside. He laughed as he saw a green silicon one Ray had left one time. The cubes were actually weed leaves, and half of them were filled with cola. The other half was, thankfully, water.  
Putting a couple in a towel, he moved back over to Gavin. He had started disinfecting the wound already, grimacing and whining at the sting of each touch.  
“It hurts, boi.”  
“But it’ll hurt more if it gets infected. Hold this ice to it. I’m going to wash my hands.”  
A couple minutes passed in mostly silence. Gavin made a comment every so often, though Michael didn’t know what they were about. When he confirmed his head was “bungin’ iced”, Michael moved towards him and started to put a leg around his waist.  
“Whoa! Boi!” Gavin tried to lean back.  
“What?” Michael looked at him.  
Gavin bit his lip. “Why are you straddling me?”  
“How else do you expect me to get close enough sew up your head?”  
Gavin pouted but let Michael sit down on his lap. He could swear he saw the brit’s face grow a bit darker under the bruises as he leaned closer.  
It probably took longer than it should’ve, but Michael didn’t want to hurt Gavin. Between that and having to say “Stop fuckin’ squirming, you ass” every thirty seconds, they were uncomfortably close for too long.  
When Michael stood up his legs were tingly and hands were cramped. “Alright, asshole, I’m done.”  
Gavin jumped up and was about to run over to the couch when Michael remembered his blood-covered outfit again.  
“Wait!”  
Gavin stopped and looked back, “Wha?”  
Michael threw out the needle and put everything back in the first-aid kit, then walked it back to the bathroom. He came back with an old pair of sweatpants and a sweater he never wore.  
He tossed them to Gavin. “Change into this. I don’t want blood all over my couch.”  
Then Gavin started stripping down in the middle of his living room. Michael rolled his eyes, not bothering to stop him. He walked to the kitchen to grab a beer for himself and water for Gavin. It was hard not to throw glances at the Golden Boy. The bruises on his face applied to his chest, arms, and back as well, the light golden marks already turning sickly yellows and greens. Michael turned away. It hurt him to see his best friend in pain like this, even if he was faking being fine.  
He walked over when Gavin was finished and handed him the water. “Drink this. What game do you want to play?”  
He started chugging the water and then shrugged. “I don’t know.” A bit of water dribbled out his mouth. “I’m kinda tired.”  
“Movie it is.” Michael flopped down on his couch, finally feeling a bit relaxed, and opened Netflix. “We’re watching Kingsman though.”  
Gavin sat on the other end of the couch, pulling his legs up to his chest. The pants were a bit too short for him, and the sleeves of the sweater ended before his wrists, but he looked comfortable.  
Michael pressed play on the movie and put his feet up on the coffee table. It was growing darker outside. He realized Gavin had shown up quite late in the day, and fixing him up had taken a while. The lights of the city shone through his wall-to-wall windows.  
It didn’t take long for Gavin to fall asleep. Michael kept thinking he should wake him up, in case he does have a concussion, so he doesn’t die, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Gavin looked so peaceful, head resting on his own shoulder and mouth hanging open a bit. He had seemed responsive earlier, so Michael just watched him. The movie kept playing, but he couldn’t force his eyes away from his friend. Who had done that to him?

 

~~~

Gavin woke up in near-darkness. The main screen of Netflix cast a red glow from a tv.  
He didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t remember anything past seeing those guys in the alley…  
He looked around the room. Another man lay on the other side of the… What was this? A couch? It was definitely a couch in a living room. In a living room in whose home though? Gavin squinted at the shape.  
Michael. Gavin had come to Michael's apartment after those guys had beat him up. Michael had fixed him up before finally saying they could watch a movie. Michael had given him water and clean clothes.  
Michael was asleep on the other side of the couch, his feet pushed under Gavin's legs and his arms crossed.  
Gavin checked his phone. Two in the morning. Hid head hurt and his mouth was dry. He got up, trying not to wake Michael, and went to the kitchen. In the fridge, he immediately moved for a beer but remembered Michael's words and opted for a Pepsi instead.  
The apartment was dark and quiet. The lights from the city illuminated the room enough for him to move around, and sirens resonated in the distance, but otherwise he felt completely alone. Except for Michael.  
Gavin let himself into the bedroom and grabbed the large blanket and a couple pillows from off the bed. He sat back down on the couch across from Michael, put a pillow under both their heads, and threw the blanket across the two of them.  
He was tired, but his mind wandered as he tried to sleep. Why had he let those guys beat him? He could’ve called for backup as soon as he saw them attacking those two girls. But instead he had gone at it alone, thinking he could handle six guys. Why? He knew the answer, but didn’t want to admit. Not even think it. If he fully thought the truth, he would admit to it. He never wanted to admit to it. Now he felt sad and alone.  
Except for Michael, whose feet had made their way under his legs again.  
If he had called for help, he would’ve been seen as weak by the crew. More than they already do. He’s already seen as the child who can’t do anything, what if he asked someone for help for six guys? That's not what the crew does. They break and steal and run wild. They don’t protect young girls from other gangs. Gavin felt his jaw tighten as he squeezed his eyes shut. Now he would be seen as weak for getting beat up and not calling anyone. This was a lose/lose situation and Michael might’ve fixed him up but he would probably make fun of him tomorrow and tell all the other guys how dumb he is.  
But Michael hadn’t seemed any more mean about the situation than he normally did. Gavin remembered the almost sympathy he had expressed when Gavin had showed up covered in blood, and how he had only suggested seeing Jack once before getting the med-kit. Gavin knew his friend had a caring soul, even if he covered it with leather jackets and explosives. He knew there was warmth and love in there. He wouldn’t tell the others about how stupid Gavin had been.  
Gavin fell asleep thinking about Michael.

~~~

It was Michael's turn to wake up.  
His phone said it was 3 am. There was his blanket from the bedroom across him and Gavin that he didn’t remember getting, as well as a pillow under his head. He looked at his friend curled up on the other side of the couch.  
A bandaid had started falling off his forehead. Michael leaned across the couch, careful not to wake him up, and pressed it back down. He looked better than he did earlier, but still beat up. Michael can see some gold blood in his hair. He's snoring softly.  
“Boy,” Michael frowned, “What did you do?”  
He bent his head down and kissed Gavin's forehead, right on the bandaid.  
“Whatever it was, don’t do it again, dumbass.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!!!  
> Read, Write, Live


End file.
